


the ocean; the starlight

by missmaier



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Post-The Death Cure, Thomas and Minho comfort each other, this is kinda sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:30:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmaier/pseuds/missmaier
Summary: Thomas and Minho have a talk.





	the ocean; the starlight

**Author's Note:**

> so i wrote this short angst thing at 2 am; its totally unedited so i apologize for any mistakes!! it also almost made me cry so yeah its pretty sad
> 
> basically they're comforting each other/mourning over Newt and they talk about things they need to talk about and. yeah.
> 
> enjoy<3

For as long as he could remember Thomas had always been plagued with poor sleep. WCKD had taken the liberty of wiping his memory clear of anything prior to the Maze, so maybe he slept well then. Maybe he didn’t. What Thomas knew was that he could _never_ sleep.

 

Or he didn’t want to, because he didn’t like what he saw when he slept.

 

Somehow, the problem got _worse_ when everything settled down. When he closed his eyes all he could see was horror. The sight of Teresa’s body tumbling down into fire and rubble. The sight of Chuck bleeding out in front of him. The sight of Newt with Thomas’ knife in his chest.

 

Thomas knew the other survivors were the same. He wasn’t blind to the bags growing under Brenda’s eyes or Gally constantly losing his balance from drowsiness.

 

Maybe one night could be peaceful for all of them. And the night after. Maybe one day, everything they’d seen would stop coming back to haunt them. Thomas knew it was wishful thinking. But it gave him something to think about as he stared up at the stars from the comfort of his hammock.

 

Thomas turned his head as he heard footsteps near him. Minho was out of his own hammock, walking towards the beach to stand in the shallow areas of the water. This wasn’t uncommon either. Nearly every night Thomas heard Minho get up but had never dared to ask why.

 

Tonight, though, he was feeling particularly brave. So he followed.

 

Minho didn’t even seem to notice Thomas approaching from behind until he was right next to him, the cold of the water washing away any drowsiness he had felt before. The two didn’t speak for a moment, Thomas staring down at the water and Minho up at the stars.

 

Minho broke the silence. “He would have loved it here.”

 

They didn’t even need to say a name for Thomas to know who they were talking about. Newt was still a sore spot for both of them. He likely always would be. The tiny capsule containing Newt’s letter suddenly burned on Thomas’ chest where it was tucked away under his shirt.

 

“Yeah,” was the only reply he could muster as he looked over at Minho. The moonlight and the stars barely lit his features but Thomas could still see how sad he was. Probably the saddest he’d ever seen anyone look. Minho had meant everything to Newt, that much was evident during the 6 months where he basically never rested until they found their friend. It seemed almost cruel that he didn’t get to celebrate it for long.

 

“Hey, Thomas, I never actually thanked you.” Minho turned away from the stars and met Thomas’ gaze. “For saving my dumb ass. And for keeping Newt safe for all that time.”

 

Thomas chuckled. Smiling almost hurt, and he wondered how long it had been since he’d done it. “Are you kidding? Newt was a force of nature. I did nothing. If anything, _he_ kept _me_ safe.”

 

Minho smiled, turning his eyes back to the water. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.”

 

They fell into silence again, until Minho suddenly spoke. “Brenda blames herself.”

 

Thomas snapped his head over to his friend. “What?”

 

“She thinks she should have been faster. She didn’t get the serum to him in time, and she’s pinned all the blame on herself. It’s why she never sleeps. She runs down the beach instead,” Minho just kept talking and increasing guilt and pity for Brenda piled on Thomas. He’d been blaming himself ever since it happened too. There had been a way to save him, and Thomas didn’t.

 

Thomas couldn’t speak. “How do you know this?” he eventually forced out, his words choked slightly. Minho gave him a sympathetic look but didn’t comment.

 

“Frypan. They talk sometimes.”

 

“If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.” The words tumbled out of Thomas’ mouth before he could stop them. “I was the cure. I could’ve held him off for a bit longer, but I let him-”  


“Thomas, _stop._ ” The sudden anger in Minho’s voice startled Thomas, and he stopped talking immediately. “Newt dying is no one’s fault. You wanna blame someone? Blame the Flare, blame WCKD, blame friggin’ God for all I care.” Minho was facing him now, a light in his eyes that wasn’t fueled by resentment. Passion. “You blaming yourself is only gonna make it worse. Would Newt want that?”

 

Thomas looked down. “I guess not.”

 

“You’re damn right, not. Hey,” Minho said, his voice instantly softer. “I miss him too. More than anything. I get it. But doing _this_ to yourself? This isn’t going to change anything.”

 

For the first time since he’d read Newt’s letter, tears started slipping down Thomas’ cheeks. He’d been holding himself together for  _so long_ , trying to stay strong for his friends who he knew were grieving too.

 

Thomas couldn’t be strong anymore.

 

He nearly fell into the hug Minho gave him, letting out a small sob. They stood like that for a while, wrapped up in their grief and each other’s arms.

 

Their best friend was gone. They were far from recovery. In the end, they still had each other. And while that wasn’t all that mattered, it was what counted.

 

Thomas knew he would be okay someday. But it was also okay if that wasn’t today.


End file.
